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An Abstracted Life

I was once in a class where the teacher made the statement, “We live in the abstract world in music.” This phrase struck me and so I wrote it down on a piece of paper and stuck it in my book of observations/insights. I cannot tell you what class it was or what we were studying. It really doesn’t matter.

It was this idea of abstractedness that seemed so right to me. I tend to view my life in abstract terms. I think this is a way to disassociate myself from what is really going on. I see events as abstracted in a sort of way to cope with them and the consequences. That way, it’s not really happening to me – it’s happening around me but not truly connected to me. My life is an abstracted mess.

Over the past few years, I have thought it would be the best for me if I could live “in the moment.” I’ve read loads of books on the subject, listened to podcast after podcast on the subject, and strived to meditate my way to this elusive “moment.” We’ve all heard this phrase praised in recent years. This just has not worked for me. How can you live in “the” moment when you’re not truly living in any type of real moment? This is where abstracted living becomes a huge mess. Is the reality I’m experiencing a true reality? Are the memories I have real or ones that I’ve conjured to make me feel more comfortable about the true past? What real is real?

I don’t have any answers. I do, however, have a lot of questions. I feel like I’m slowly going crazy as these questions keep piling on themselves. Which me is real? How do the events in my life connect – or do they? How do I keep this voice in my head from getting louder and louder, faster and faster? How do I shut off the noise? How do I find and keep the me that lives in the center of all this madness? The me that is balanced between two levels of crazy? What real is real?

I have some good things in my life on the horizon. I have accepted five new students over the last two weeks, with a potential two more in the next couple. Is this real? I feel like I am experiencing this but at the same time viewing it from a distance. It’s almost as though I’m reading this in a book or watching a documentary. This story about an artist struggling to balance responsibilities of adulting and desire for a life that makes her happy. How does she balance her time? How does she make time to just be herself? How does she find the peace that she is lacking? It’s an interesting story. I wish I knew how it ended.

If it seems as though I’m abstracted and unaware of my surroundings, it is possible – kind of. I am aware of my surroundings for the most part. I know what is going on in my life – in the world – I just feel removed. My life is happening, I see the direction it is heading, but I feel powerless to help myself along. My life is an abstracted mess.